Musings of a 30th something

Hello all

So back after bit of a break and have spent a happy hour ot two catching up on all your news...now some of you have been busy haven't you?

Am struggling a bit with trying to post regularly as life is just too busy - and hence a dilemma, as blogging is strangely addictive. Is it a case of good old fashioned voyuerism and our general fascination with other peoples lives or some form of cathartic psycho analysis? And with either of these, comes the fear of rejection as well as a feeling of being part of a community.

I have posted before, the reason why I started blogging - partial boredom and partial desire to start writing again - but have I stayed true to my promise of writing? Sure I am posting, but not sure my words would ever be considered journalism or anything close to being publishable. There is a real appeal in being able to say what you want, with little fear of reprisal - would I be right in saying that the real appeal of a blog, is not the content but the ability to remain anonymous, yet connect with a range of people who also remain anonymous. Its a haven for those who's opinions are maginalised by the established media - Blogging represents the embodiment of the uniquely human desire to make a difference, to leave a stamp on the world.

To me, the overriding rhetorical appeal of blogging is the possibility or actuality of COMMENTS I write in fear, in dread, in hope of generating comments - and thus meeting you, my blog friends. I wrote each post with the desire to be honest, however, there was a little voice in my head as I typed saying, "What will happen when they read this? Will they like it? Will they agree?

Then I get comments and I love the back and forth, because the informal nature just begs people to lower their guard and turn off their filter. You know how we are in cars? When someone cuts us off, we curse, we honk, we give them the finger ( well I don't, but other do)And yet, from the protective bubble of our cars, we lose all our inhibitions and our manners. That's how I see blogging. We speak from the protective comfort of our chairs through a key board. We get to be free because no one can see us, no one can challenge us in person, and we don't have to watch the recipient react to our words. So we're more angry, more passionate, more loving, more emotive, more everything on a blog. So I brace myself for comments, but I'm delighted when they come. I'm not afraid of a challenge. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but I like enlightened discourse. With comments, we can let 'em rip. So we go at it, usually with civility, but not with the usual discussion group disclaimers: "Don't take this personally, but..." "I hear you, and you make some good points, but..."

Once again we come back to the constraints of conversation and the joy of uninhibited writing. Somehow the blogdom has created a unique forum for communication because we have nearly instantaneous dialogue in a stream-of-consciousness format. It's compelling. It draws you in.

Not everyone may feel the pull of comments. But for me, and for many of us, I think the comments are the unique feature, because of the way they foster the one-of-a-kind blog rhetoric, its unique pathos appeal. Without comments, I'm just another faceless voice- But then someone answers, and I answer back, and then we're talking about my stuff and your stuff. And because of the way it all unfolds, in a less filtered, less edited, less defensive way (write-click-send-read-respond), I realize we're mostly alike in so many ways. Thanks for letting me in.